


Spilled Wine

by manicmagicat



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Broken Engagement, Drunk Fic, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Meeting, Sort Of, ex Simon and agatha, meeting at a bar, not steamy AT ALL the t rating is just for alcohol mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manicmagicat/pseuds/manicmagicat
Summary: Baz and Simon meet at a bar. And then they meet again, but this time, Snow is in desperate need of another drink
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 3
Kudos: 59





	Spilled Wine

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Fucked Up by Young Rising Sons. Not steamy at all like not even a smooch so pls do not go into this expecting that. Just a little fic about finding solace in unexpected places with unexpected people, hope y’all enjoy 💞

“Simon, where am I going?” I asked softly. We pulled up to a red light and I looked over to the passenger seat. His head was resting against the seat, face turned towards me. The light made the car red and hazy. He was asleep. Brilliant. 

I had no idea where he lived but he looked so peaceful every time I glanced over I couldn’t bring myself to wake him. Also, he was so totally smashed that I wasn’t sure if I would be able to rouse him if I tried. So I drove around back roads for a few hours waiting for the sun to come up. I like driving at night when it’s just me and the music. Tonight it was me and the music and this beautiful dozing boy and I still wasn’t sure if he was a welcome addition or not. Suburbia went by us in a dark blue blur.

When the sun started to rise, light filtered through the windows and lit Simon up bright gold. His eyes squinted at the sudden brightness and he blinked them open. Then he looked over and threw me a grin like it cost him nothing. As if there was no where or way he’d rather be right now than deeply hungover in a strangers car at sunrise. 

“Sorry,” he laughed looking up at me with bloodshot blue eyes, “I could never hold my liquor.” 

That was certainly true from what I had seen of him. He got so smashed last night he couldn’t stand. The girl he told me was his ride home disappeared with some very energetic guy who was apparently from Omaha, Nebraska. He told me about ten times. They were all so hammered that that was pretty much the only coherent thing I got out of the three of them all night. I didn’t know much about this boy except his name. But I couldn’t leave Simon by himself at the bar. They probably would’ve tossed him to the curb if he was on the floor at closing. 

“That’s alright but I have been driving in circles for a few hours. Any chance you’d like to supply me with some directions?”

“Oh right yeah sorry of course,” he said propping himself up straight. He directed me to a very average building. “My flats right up here.” I was relieved to see that we weren’t far from mine. The night was starting to catch up with me and I was feeling absolutely knackered. Simon gave me a wicked grin as he climbed out of the jag. “Next one's on me, Basil.”

* * *

The next one, as it turned out, was not planned but was very eventful nonetheless.

“This one’s on you, Simon.” I said pulling up a bar stool beside him. I was hesitant to approach because he was in a charming suit and I didn’t want to interrupt anything, but he seemed to be alone. Probably just for the moment, but I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to talk to him again.

He turned to me with a grin. “Basil!” He called, clapping me on the back. It was not the call of a sober man, but his eyes were twinkling and his curls were disheveled and I couldn’t help but lean into the touch. “Two whiskeys please!” Simon called down the bar.

When Simon handed me my drink and clinked his glass to mine (‘to chance encounters!’) I noticed the burnt edge of his sleeve and the blackened mark on his arm.

“You’re not meant to hold the lit side of the cigarette, Simon. If you need lessons, I’d be happy to show you.” I definitely meant to be suggestive with that comment, but I’m not sure if it really suggested anything besides a smoke. I suppose a good snog often follows a good smoke. He was blushing and I was just thinking too much so I took a long sip of my drink. Focus on his ruddy cheeks. Focus on the music. Focus on the slick sweaty smell of the club. Focus on his freckles. Take another sip. 

“Not saying I’d object to a lesson, but I do know how to smoke. My lungs would be better off if I could accept that offer in good conscious but there it is.”

“So tell me then, Simon, who burnt you with their cigarette?” I asked. His arm was resting on the bar between us, and I reached out to trace my thumb along the burnt hole in his coat sleeve.

He turned to look at me and I got a full view of the red wine stains splashed like blood across his white button up. “Speaking of, who spilled all the wine on your Sunday best?” I thought about running my hand across the stain, across his chest, but I didn’t. I thought about how I didn’t even know his last name and I stilled my other hand as well. 

“M’Fiance. Well, not my anything now. Just Agatha. Came out to her, didn’t I? Tonight was our rehearsal dinner. I just — couldn’t do it anymore. She wasn’t happy with me, hadn’t been for a long time. Think she wanted out almost as badly as I did if’m’honest but I spose finding out I’m gay wasn’t really the way she wanted out.”

My heart broke for him a bit. He was a fucking mess.

“What’s your last name, Simon?” He gave me an odd look but told me it was Snow.

“Well, Snow, it sounds like you could use another drink.” I ordered two more whiskeys as we both threw back what was left in our glasses.

Simon wasn’t in the mood to talk so we danced. It was late when I got here and the hours kept slipping away. He was warm against me and the throng of the music was stronger than any mortal heartbeat that ever resided in my chest. He made me feel alive. More alive than I’d felt in a long, long time. 

But then we both began to wilt. It was late. The tide of life was washing back and it left me feeling burnt. I think the earlier events of the night had finally started to catch up with him.

We were resting against the bar, facing the dwindling crowd. Simon turned to me and slipped his fingers into mine. He was looking at the floor, scuffing his shoe, biting his lip. And then suddenly all of his attention was on me, paralyzing me with his blue gaze. “Will you come home with me, Baz?”

“Snow, I don’t think that’s a very good idea. You’re going through a lot right now and we’ve both been drinking-“

“No! No, not like that. I mean, absolutely like that” he says trailing his eyes up and down my body. He smirks and I blush, but then his face turns serious again. “But not now. That’s not what I meant. I just- I just don’t want to be alone right now. Not after. . . Everything that happened, y’know.”

I gave his hand a gentle squeeze. 

“Alright Simon, lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated 💞  
> Find me on tumblr @manicmagicat


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